Online Reporter
Theseus Shambare, Features Writer
LAST year, an El Niño-induced drought struck with a force not seen in over four decades.
Maize fields across the country withered under the relentless sun. Livestock perished in parched pastures.
Rivers ran dry. Empty granaries echoed the despair of nearly six million Zimbabweans facing food shortages.
Shona communities remember this period with the proverb, “Kukurukura hunge wapotswa” — you can only talk about hunger once you have survived it.
In isiNdebele, the warning is similar: “Indlala iyadlula, kodwa ibuye futhi” — hunger may pass, but it always returns.
The memory of that hunger is still raw, but so too is the testimony of survival.
Nature’s supermarkets
In Mwenezi, Mutoko, Mangwe, Chiredzi and Mudzi — Zimbabwe’s hunger-prone districts — families turned to forests when granaries were empty and relief aid uncertain.
They harvested mazhanje, masawu, marula, baobab and hacha.
“We pounded the fruits into porridge, fermented some into drinks, and sold the rest by the roadside,” recalled Ms Matilda Mandinyanya (54), a mother of six from Mutoko.
“That money bought maize meal when our children grew tired of fruits.”
In Mangwe, young mothers revived forgotten forest fruits like mahehha, umkhemeswane and umpumpulwane.
“We dried them, mixed them with porridge, and gave them to our children,” said Ms Hilda Ncube (27).
“For many families, these trees were not supplements — they were the main meal.”
Ten-year-old Tafadzwa Dube from Mudzi remembers climbing a baobab tree to pick ripe fruit for breakfast.
“Without the trees, I would have gone to school hungry every day,” he said, holding a small basket of mashed masawu.
Science in the trees
Researchers have long known what villagers proved in practice.
A peer-reviewed article, “Contribution of edible indigenous woody plants as a coping strategy during drought periods in the southeast lowveld of Zimbabwe: A review” identifies 23 edible indigenous tree species that can sustain families during crises.
Baobab pulp contains six times more Vitamin C than oranges.
Marula nuts are rich in protein and oils, rivalling imported cooking oil.
Mazhanje carry iron and calcium crucial for children and pregnant women.
“These plants are nature’s food security insurance,” said Dr Kudzai Kusena of the National Genetic Resources Institute.
“Even in the worst drought, they fruit, because they are adapted to our soils and climate.”
While maize withered in the sun, forests continued producing. While relief trucks were delayed by bad roads, nature was already feeding its people.
In Chiredzi, the Nyamukuta Women’s Co-operative transformed marula and masawu into business.
They pressed marula kernels into oil and sold it to skincare buyers in South Africa.
Masawu became jams, syrups and dried snacks reaching supermarket shelves in Bulawayo.
“Every tree is a supermarket if you respect it,” said co-operative chairperson Ms Lindiwe Moyo, holding up a bottle of golden marula oil.
The co-operative now earns around US$1 200 a month — paying school fees, buying livestock and powering solar fridges.
“What began as a survival tactic is now a climate-proof livelihood,” Ms Moyo said.
“Climate change forced us to look at what we already had. Now the forest is not just saving us — it is feeding the economy.”
The price of neglect
But the very trees that sustained communities are under siege. Zimbabwe loses 330 000 hectares of forest annually, according to the Forestry Commission.
Charcoal burning, tobacco curing, land clearing and uncontrolled logging are destroying the natural supermarkets of tomorrow.
Biopiracy adds another layer of threat. International companies patent extracts from Zimbabwe’s plants while local communities remain unprotected and uncompensated.
“Last month, illegal loggers cut down a grove of marula trees that fed hundreds of families,” said Ms Nolia Moyo from Bubi.
“If we lose these species, we lose both our culture and our insurance against climate change,” warned Dr Kusena.
Protecting forests is no longer just about conservation — it is about survival.
Forests That Feed the Economy
Economists say the numbers are compelling. A 2024 Food and Agriculture Organisation study found that wild fruits contributed up to 35 percent of household food intake in drought-hit districts.
“If Zimbabwe harvested even half of its seasonal forest foods, it could drastically cut food imports and reduce malnutrition,” said economist Mr Clemence Machadu.
“A tonne of baobab powder can fetch US$3 000 on the European market, while marula oil exports are growing steadily in Southern Africa.”
Forest-based enterprises, from marula oil to masawu jams, represent a sustainable economy that rewards both people and nature.
For many, the 2023/24 drought was a wake-up call.
In Mudzi, farmers now leave wild fruit trees standing when clearing fields.
In Mwenezi, women’s groups plant marula and baobab seedlings alongside maize, combining agroforestry with conventional farming.
“We realised these trees are not just shade,” said Mr Samuel Dube, a farmer.
“They are the reason our children did not starve.”
Zimbabwe’s National Development Strategy 1 recognises biodiversity as a pillar of food security.
Communities now demand support to scale up: training, processing equipment and access to wider markets.
“We do not want handouts — we want machines to grind, package, and sell,” said Ms Mandinyanya.
Civil society groups are pushing for stronger laws to give communities ownership over their forest resources.
The European Union has funded pilot projects in Matabeleland, training co-operatives to process wild fruits for local and international markets.
The momentum is building — but so are the threats.
Call for reforestation
In response to last year’s crisis, the Government has launched a nationwide reforestation initiative, urging every household to plant at least 10 fruit trees, emphasising the protection of indigenous species such as marula, baobab, mazhanje and masawu.
“Indigenous trees are the backbone of our food security, nutrition, and climate resilience,” said Professor Obert Jiri, Permanent Secretary for Lands, Agriculture, Fisheries, Water and Rural Development.
“We are calling on all citizens to plant and protect these trees, not only to feed their families but to ensure future generations can withstand droughts and climate shocks.”
Professor Jiri noted that the programme will provide seedlings, technical guidance and community monitoring to safeguard forests from illegal logging and overexploitation.
“Reforestation is not just environmental policy — it is a national survival strategy,” he said.
Communities in Mwenezi, Mangwe and Mutoko are already embracing the initiative, planting marula and baobab seedlings alongside crops to ensure the forests that once saved Zimbabwe continue to provide food, medicine and livelihoods.
Forests that speak
The best stories are not about despair but transformation. And in Zimbabwe, the transformation is rooted in forests.
Women are proving that marula can pay school fees. Young mothers are proving that baobab can fight malnutrition.
Children are proving that mazhanje and masawu are not just fruits — they are lifelines.
Shona communities remind us: “Kukurukura hunge wapotswa” — you only talk about hunger once you survive it.
The Ndebele echo: “Indlala iyadlula, kodwa ibuye futhi” — hunger passes, but it will come again.
Zimbabwe survived last year because of its forests.
The question now is whether the nation will protect them — so that when hunger comes again, the forests will still be there to save the nation.
